


A Taste of Winter

by captainsourwolf



Series: What Could've Been [1]
Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Alternate Universe - Lawyers, Alternate Universe of an Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Enemies to Lovers, Feelings, M/M, None Like This universe, Riding, Snow, Winter, and link is a little dumb too, cabin in the mountains, rhett is an emotionally constipated buttmunch, rival lawyers au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-18 05:55:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21989392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainsourwolf/pseuds/captainsourwolf
Summary: In a world of What Could've Been, our favorite lawyers from the None Like This Universe go on a wintery vacation to the mountains of Utah.
Relationships: Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal
Series: What Could've Been [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1582897
Comments: 16
Kudos: 38





	A Taste of Winter

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, huge thanks to Em, Stephanie, and Guru for their help with this monster. Em brought this idea to me and from there it snowballed into THIS. 
> 
> Secondly, this universe is an AU of None Like This. What Could've Been, ways the fic could've ended up, the different ways our boys could have met or ended up, etc. There will be different scenarios set in the aptly titled series What Could've Been.
> 
> Thirdly, I hope nobody is sick of these fics.
> 
> Thanks so much for the love NLT has already received since posting all those months ago. It grew into something bigger than I could have ever imagined and now there's NLT one shots and this series. Whether it flops or grows, I greatly enjoyed writing this piece and hope everyone enjoys it! Comment, kudos, share!

McLaughlin & Neal is a relatively quiet place during the month of December. Most of the firm’s clients have already gone home for the holidays by the second week; some are traveling abroad. The firm itself takes a few days off the week after Christmas. It’s only a handful of days from the twenty seventh to the first of the new year, but it’s enough to recharge and relax without all the drama that being a lawyer brings. 

It’s at the end of the day on Christmas Eve that Rhett approaches Link, briefcase in hand and keys in the other, not sure yet what he’s doing here. Link is tidying up his workspace and grumbling under his breath. Rhett can't make out what he's complaining about, but he isn't sure he really cares all that much, either. Despising Link has been his favorite hobby from day one when Link waltzed in behind his dad during their first year, snobby rich kid written all over his features. They quickly became heated rivals, often finding themselves in explosive arguments over the dumbest things, only to end up in a compromising position or two in someone’s apartment. 

“What?” Link snaps over his shoulder, then softer, “Sorry, I’m exhausted. What do you want?” He glances at Rhett with tired eyes and a frown. 

Rhett shakes his head, unsure himself what he’s still doing here. Shrugging, he twirls his keys on his finger and watches Link grab his things. He cuts the lights, locks the door behind both of them, and stands in front of Rhett, irritation growing by the second. 

“What are you doing for the holiday break?” Rhett asks suddenly. 

Link’s furrows his brow, confused. “Why?” He pushes his glasses up, scrunches his nose to wiggle them into place. Rhett feels a surge of affection seeing it; Link has always had a cute nose. “Rhett?”

“Can’t I ask what a colleague is doing for the holidays? Geeze,” Rhett huffs and rolls his eyes, adjusting his grip on his briefcase. Link rolls his eyes right back. “But really, what’re you doing over the break?”

Link sighs, “Fine. If you must know,” he nudges Rhett down the hallway with his elbow, pointing to the elevator. “Dad has a cabin in the mountains in Utah. I’m heading over there after we finish filing on the twenty sixth.” He pushes the elevator button and they both crowd in with a few others from the floor. 

The ride to the parking garage is silent. Rhett stares at Link and Link tries not to be too obvious staring back. He’s got his bottom lip sucked between his teeth, his glasses keep slipping down his nose and Rhett can see his hands shaking slightly where he holds onto his bag and keys. This is how it always goes. One of them gets a little keyed up, there’s a few heated glances and stares, and eventually someone snaps. At least this time they’re on an elevator full of people that can keep them in check.

As the elevator descends Rhett considers Link’s holiday plans. It sounds _nice_ , being away from the bustle of city life and the stress of being a lawyer, but it also sounds kind of lonely. Link has always shown himself as the snobby rich kid with daddy on his side, but he doesn’t seem to have many friends, or enemies. He’s just Link, and sometimes Rhett finds himself wishing he could be a little more than his— _whatever_ he is. They’re not friends, they’re not enemies; they’re rivals at work and on their worst and best days they’re fuck buddies. But never anything more.

“I’m coming with you,” Rhett states suddenly. 

“Excuse me?” Link squeaks, shocked at Rhett’s statement. 

The doors slide open and together they walk out with a few others. “I said,” Rhett pants as he struggles to keep up with Link’s fast strides. He’s just as in a hurry to leave for the holiday as Rhett. But he won’t slow down so Rhett grabs his elbow to stop him. “I _said_ , I’m coming with you.” 

“Rhett—“

Rhett ignores him and tugs on his elbow again. “Link, come on. It would be fun!” Waggling his eyebrows, Rhett tightens his grip on Link, mind made up that he’s inviting himself on Link’s vacation. 

Link stares at him, mouth agape, hand squeezing his bag strap so tightly his knuckles turn white. He sputters around a few words, clearly unsure of what to say in response. Rhett stares back, trying to show him that he’s serious enough. It’s a tense few seconds, both of them staring the other down, Rhett trying his hardest not to look at Link’s lips. 

Sighing, Link’s shoulders slump. “I don’t want to spend my break fighting with you, Rhett. We do enough of that here.” He shrugs out of Rhett’s grip, frown deepening. 

For a moment Rhett feels bad. They’ve been doing this dance for a few years now, but he’s never felt _bad_ about it. He thinks maybe in another life they could have been friends if their fathers weren’t the biggest lawyers in the city, if their firm wasn’t the best, _if if if_. It wouldn’t be so awful having Link as a friend; maybe then he wouldn’t feel so torn about their weird relationship. 

Before Link can get too far away Rhett grabs him again. Link groans and shoves his hand off. “Let’s call a truce,” Rhett says. This causes Link to stop, jerk his head around fast like he’s said the most shocking thing in the world. “Don’t look at me like that, Link.”

“A truce?” Link sounds confused. But he also looks hopeful for a second.

“Yeah, man. Just for those few days. I’ll come on vacation with you so you won’t be alone,” at this Link swallows hard and a flush rises on his cheeks, “and we’ll both have a good time, enjoy each other’s company for once. You don’t even have to talk to me, I’ll hole myself up somewhere if I have to. But no fighting, no work, no bullshit.” Rhett smiles at him, a genuine smile, and Link tilts his head, considering.

Then Link is sticking his hand out, holding it between the two of them. “So, truce?” he repeats. Rhett takes his hand and they shake on it, both grinning. 

“Truce.”

*  
Rhett wouldn’t exactly call the Neal cabin _simple_. Secluded in the woods and the mountains, the vacation home is huge. They arrive in the middle of the night on the twenty sixth after a long day of filing paperwork and a red eye flight into Utah. The small spotlights along the driveway provide enough light for Rhett to see as he parks, and when he leans over Link to look out the passenger side he’s greeted with picture windows, wooden beams, and stone pillars. 

“Wow, you vacationed here as a kid?”

Link laughs and shoves him out of the way to open the door. “Yes, now move. It’s cold.” He isn’t wrong. It’s freezing and there’s a thin layer of snow covering the ground with more predicted for the morning. If they’re lucky they’ll have a couple of inches by the afternoon.

The trek inside is quick, both carrying their luggage into the dark house to get in from the cold. Link gets the lights on in the foyer and Rhett has to stop, bags falling to the floor in awe at the sheer size of the entryway and the high ceilings. If he peeks around the corner to the right he can see a gigantic family room looking out over the front yard that he can’t wait to explore in the daylight. 

“Come on, the bedrooms are up here,” Link calls out, already halfway up the staircase directly in front of him. 

Picking up his bags, Rhett follows two steps at a time, eager to see more of the cabin despite how tired he is after a day of work and a middle of the night flight. Upstairs seems to be just as fancy as the downstairs. The staircase opens into a lounge area with a fireplace and a hallway that splits off into a few separate rooms. Link makes a left turn, opens the first door he comes to, and gestures inside.

“You can sleep here.” He flips the light switch, then steps out of the way for Rhett to enter. 

This may be the best bedroom Rhett has ever laid eyes on. Roomy and warm, a king size bed in the middle of the floor, wooden pillars, and an A frame window looking out into the snowy mountainside. He’s in love. He tosses his bags to the side and just stands there taking in the enormity of the space. His whole apartment could probably fit just in this bedroom. 

“Bathroom is down the hall, to the right. My room is at the end of the hall, don’t come knockin’,” Link jokes, or Rhett thinks he does anyway. It’s hard to tell with him sometimes. “I’m going to bed. See you in the morning.”

Rhett waves him away, says, “Goodnight, Link,” without really meaning it and only glances at him once before turning his attention back to the room. 

A soft goodnight from Link and he’s out the door, but Rhett hardly notices. 

*  
Bacon is the first thing that wakes Rhett bright and early on the first day. Still sleepy, he rolls onto his back and rubs his eyes, groaning when he sees it’s only seven. He doesn’t get up right away, instead chooses to lay there and stare at the wooden beams holding up the ceiling. After a minute he turns to look outside the window where it’s snowing gently, a fresh coat on the trees out back and dusting what bit of the mountains he can see. It’s a peaceful sight that he could get used to, fast.

Eventually the smell of bacon wins over the snowy mountainside view and the cozy bedding. Rhett rolls out of bed, entire body creaking and groaning from such a long day and late night, and yanks on a pair of loose pants and a plain white tee. He takes his time leaving the room and when he does, he decides to explore for awhile. He finds an office full of Mr. Neal’s law school texts and various other books, two bathrooms, another bedroom, and the door he’s assuming belongs to Link. He’s intrigued for a moment, wants to snoop and see what the other man is like when he’s not in work mode all the time, but decides against it. He’ll work his way in there eventually.

As he comes downstairs he can hear Link muttering in the kitchen. Rhett follows the sounds and smells through rooms with high open ceilings and plush leather furniture, more floor to ceiling windows looking out over the mountains and the snow-covered trees. It’s a beautiful view this early in the morning and Rhett thoroughly enjoys taking in what he’s seeing. This place is a far cry from the sights and sounds of Los Angeles. 

“Just from previous experience,” Rhett starts as he waltzes into the kitchen, “you can’t cook.” He laughs at the glare Link shoots his way and dodges a balled up paper towel being tossed at him. 

“I can cook _some_ things, thank you very much,” he retorts. If it weren’t for the small smile on his face Rhett would think he hurt Link’s feelings. 

“You’re not trying to kill me are you?” Rhett jokes. Link groans and rolls his eyes. “What?! Given our history, it might be something you would do.” He beams at Link and snatches up a piece of bacon cooling on a plate to munch on.

Link smacks his hand, grumbling, “Rhett, seriously?”

“Alone in the mountains, no one could hear me scream, I don’t know what your intentions—“ 

Rhett is silenced by Link’s lips on his, surprising and shocking all at once. It isn’t that they have never kissed; they’ve done plenty of that over the years, usually with one of them nearly bent in half getting fucked and desperately seeking out the other’s mouth. No, it’s the act itself. The kiss is sweet, it’s on the side of too intimate for _them_ , it’s simple. Link’s mouth tastes like coffee and bacon, and it’s nice. Rhett could get used to it. He could easily slip into a domestic role with Link just because of this one little kiss that leaves him wanting more.

The thought is startling. Rhett jerks back, frowning, and looks into Link’s face. He’s blushing from the tips of his ears and all the way down into his shirt collar. He shifts awkwardly on his feet for a beat, says, “You’re rambling and it’s annoying. I had to shut you up somehow.” His voice is soft and his blush deepens.

“Link, wha—“ Rhett hates how his voice cracks. They don’t do this. They don’t get intimate with each other. They work together, they get into arguments, they fuck it out, rinse and repeat. 

“I’m not trying to kill you, dumbass. I do have some talent.” Link goes back to the bacon sizzling in the pan and pushes it around some, then he’s glancing at Rhett over his shoulder with a smile. “And you invited yourself, remember? So if anyone should worry about ill intentions, it should be me, buddyroll.”

Rhett can’t help the full belly laugh. 

*  
By lunchtime Rhett is antsy. He’s itching for something to do and it’s only the first day. Under other circumstances he would bother Link, get him riled up and angry, maybe annoy him until he snaps, but they called a truce. He can’t take his restlessness out on Link no matter how much he wants to. So instead he bundles up into his biggest winter coat and his jeans and boots and heads outside. Link is puttering around the cabin somewhere, doing who knows what, but he doesn’t dare interrupt the other man. 

The snow has been steadily falling since early morning. By now there’s about an inch and a half on the ground, perfect for fooling around in. Rhett carefully steps through the crunchy gravel of the back walkway and sets his sights on an expanse of yard untouched by expensive things. The snow here is smooth and fresh, and Rhett grins when he shoves his mitten covered hands into it. 

For several minutes he just digs around in the snow, makes patterns with his hands and feet, even lays down and makes a snow angel. He catches flakes on his tongue, lies under the sun while the snow falls. The cold air feels good and fresh compared to the city air where it’s polluted and often stifling hot, even in the cooler months. He hasn’t enjoyed himself this much in a long time. Work gets the best of him, of all of them, and he’s found himself spending a lot of his free time trying to catch up on more work, stressing himself out to the point of frustration daily. 

“You’ll make yourself sick.”

Rhett jumps, hand flying to his chest at the sound of Link’s voice. “Dammit, Link!” He sits up fast and finds Link standing on the gravel a few inches away. He’s bundled up in a hat, scarf, puffy jacket, and jeans and boots. His cheeks are pink from the cold and his eyes reflect the shine of the light off the too white snow. 

“You’re gonna get all wet and then you’ll get sick, and I’ll have to deal with you being a whiny bitch for the rest of _my_ vacation.” Link smirks down at him. 

Rhett huffs and pushes himself to a sitting position. “Don’t be so uptight and join me in the snow, Link!” He reaches for Link but Link takes a step back, that smirk still firmly planted on his lips. “It’s nice down here. Alllll this fluffy snow.” Rhett pats the ground next to him, snow poofing out around his fingers in white puffs. Link just rolls his eyes and goes to turn around, probably leave, but Rhett rolls onto his knees and grabs his wrist before he can get away.

Before Link can protest, Rhett drags him down to the ground. Link squawks loudly as he lands on his butt with an _oof_ and a whoosh of breath. Rhett continues to pull him down until they’re both lying next to each other. By now he’s fully soaked through his pants and the first layer of his coat, but he doesn’t care. The snow is falling, the air is clean, and he’s got Link next to him. A grumbling Link, but _still_. He’s here and they aren’t fighting for once.

_Maybe a truce was a good idea_.

Link smacks him on the chest, but he hardly feels it through his thick jacket and sweater underneath. In a move that surprises both of them, Rhett suddenly takes Link’s hand in his and slots their fingers together. It only lasts a few seconds, Link sighing heavily, and Rhett patting the back of his hand, then they’re both pulling away at the same time. When he looks over at Link, Link is staring at him, blue eyes considering him and cheeks reddening with every passing second. 

Then, “Let’s go inside. I’m cold.” Link sits up again and this time Rhett lets him go, watching silently as Link trudges through the snow and across the walkway.

Inside it is much warmer with the fireplaces roaring. Rhett carefully peels off his wet layers inside his room and hangs them to dry by the small heater in the corner. He changes quickly, grateful for the clean and dry clothes, and heads back downstairs to find Link. He’s on edge after their silent exchange in the snow; can still feel a tingle in his hand from holding Link’s. As he finds his way downstairs, he thinks. 

He and Link don’t hold hands. They don’t share breakfast together or play in snow together or really do anything _together_ except work and have sex. Years of cultivating this careful balance has led to many restless nights on Rhett’s part, wondering about the tingle in his veins and the clench in his chest, but he’s been able to drive it away with nasty words and a good fuck. Often he finds himself thinking too much about Link, how they could have ended up instead of what they are now; it’s been years of back and forth, give and take, and he gets kind of tired of it sometimes. So why did things seem different now? Away from the city, the heat and bright lights and never-ending pace of work, had something shifted? Or was it simply his imagination?

Rhett finally finds Link in the kitchen stirring a mug of hot chocolate. There’s a second mug sitting next to the stove with the pot of warm milk and a container of cocoa powder. He’s surprised to see the extra mug waiting for him, but hides it well and picks the cup up to fix his own cocoa. Link regards him quietly as he leans against the counter, long fingers wrapped around the entirety of his own cup, eyes burning holes into Rhett’s face.

For a moment Rhett is struck by how _domestic_ this is. He fixes his drink and watches the milk and powder swirl together and tries not to panic. When they aren’t fighting they’re usually fucking or working. He thought earlier about how easily he could fall into a domestic role with Link, but he didn’t think he would feel so anxious about it. Domesticity is a whole other world away from what they are used to. 

The anxiousness amplifies when Link sidles closer and nudges him with an elbow, frowning, “What’s wrong?” He blows on the top of his hot chocolate and the way his nose scrunches and his glasses fog up is enough to make Rhett’s heart clench painfully. Any other time Link might tease or annoy him until Rhett gave in and kissed him quiet, but this time he seems genuine, _soft_. 

Link must sense his slight panic because he’s lifting on his toes and kissing Rhett for the second time today. It’s swift and barely there, but it’s enough to make Rhett groan and set his mug down, take Link’s from him carefully to do the same, and gather him around the waist and kiss him deeper. Link’s hands immediately rest around his cheeks, fingers splayed and teasing around his jaw and his neck, holding him close. Now this is something Rhett can do. He can fall into this role without hesitation. 

Only this kiss is different, too. Rhett can sense a different desperation than usual, a different kind of shakiness in Link’s hands, a different tingling in his own veins. He shakes it off and uses the arm around Link’s waist to spin him and pin him to the refrigerator in one swift movement. Link moans into the kiss when his back hits heavy on the silver surface. 

“Does the truce extend to sex, too?” Rhett asks, breathless from kissing Link.

Link grins Cheshire-like and rolls his hips up into Rhett’s. “I hope not,” he laughs. 

Rhett dives in for another kiss and at the same time tugs on the button of Link’s jeans, slides the zipper down in one swift motion. He brushes his knuckles over the growing bulge in Link’s underwear, smirking when Link moans softly, grin gone, and head tilting back with a gentle thunk. This is easy, this is simple. Rhett knows how to do this like he knows how to tie his shoes or brush his teeth. He’s familiar with Link’s body the same way he’s familiar with the law, so grabbing Link’s jeans and underwear and pulling them down past his ass and hips until they’re bunched around his thighs feels easier than facing the _different_. 

Making cocoa and having breakfast cooked for him and laying side by side in the snow is a foreign concept for both of them, but the weight of Link’s cock on his tongue as he engulfs him in wet heat is not. Link chokes back a groan and Rhett holds his hips so he can’t thrust too far and something settles inside him at how uncomplicated it is to suck Link off against a refrigerator. 

Sex has always been used as a distraction when things get too heavy, when the feelings surface for too long. Rhett is used to this dance. 

Link exhales quickly, puffs out a quiet, “Fuck, _Rhett_.” He shifts around on his feet and a hand falls into Rhett’s hair, tugging gently. But Rhett doesn’t want gentle. He leans into the touch, squeezes his hands around Link’s hips until Link gets the hint and tangles his fingers in Rhett’s hair hard enough to sting. Moaning, Rhett slides his mouth further down, not stopping until he can’t take anymore. 

The groan Link releases, strangled and broken like he’s a man dying, shoots straight to Rhett’s cock. He’s aching in his joggers after barely getting started. He begins to move, starting a slow pace back and forth, tongue flat on the underside. When he pulls back he tongues that sweet spot Link loves so much and sucks at the head, catching every drop of precum that dribbles out. The noises Link is making set his gut on fire. 

Rhett loves this. He wouldn’t pride himself on giving great blow jobs but after Link told him once that he had a mouth like a porn star, he can’t help feeling pretty good at it. He wraps a hand around what he can’t cover with his mouth and pumps it in time with the bobbing of his head. Link is steadily falling apart above him, moans spilling out of his mouth and his hips thrusting shallowly. Rhett takes him in all the way to his own hand then hollows his cheeks on the way up, sucking hard and thorough. 

“Fuck, Rhett, _Rhett_ , come on,” Link babbles and the hand holding Rhett’s hair tightens almost painfully. Rhett sucks harder, forms a tighter ring with his thumb and forefinger around Link’s shaft. 

When Link cums moments later it’s with a shout, hips stilling against Rhett’s mouth as he spills hot and thick into his throat. Rhett can take most of it, but has to pull off coughing, and the rest catches on his cheeks and beard. He uses his hand to stroke Link through his orgasm and Link moans, finishing in a weak final dribble over Rhett’s fingers before slumping down the door. He lands butt first in front of Rhett, sighing in contentment and shaking, pants and underwear bunched awkwardly around his legs. 

Grinning widely, Rhett wipes his mouth off onto his shirt. His cock is throbbing in his pants and he’s ready for Link to reciprocate but Link grabs him around the cheeks and pulls him into a quick kiss. Then before Rhett can protest, Link leans back and licks up the sticky mess on his cheeks and beard. He laughs and Link drags his tongue from cheek to forehead, teasing, then leaves a small peck above his eyebrow. 

This causes a hitch in his chest, laughter dying off. Rhett swallows past the sudden lump in his throat, but Link doesn’t seem to notice. He pushes Rhett out of his space and lifts his hips to yank his clothes back into place; he starts grumbling something about lunch and what he wants to eat. 

Rhett watches him stand, then he’s holding a hand out for Rhett.

“Come on, let’s find lunch.” 

Rhett lets himself be hauled to his feet, unsteady and still hard in his joggers. But Link has thrown him off once again. That itchy feeling comes flooding back and Rhett can’t do much about it.

_Fuck_.

*  
By day two Rhett has shaking hands and jittery nerves. His normal response to feelings is to take it out Link and vice versa. He’s used to getting in Link’s space, used to getting him keyed up and just as restless as himself. But this truce, _dammit_ , why did he have to call a truce? 

After lunch yesterday they found themselves on the couch, tangled in each other, Rhett’s cock buried in Link for what felt like hours. It satisfied the clench in his chest and the itchiness under his skin, but only for awhile, and when he finally had his release and brought Link to his second, the discomfort returned.

Now, as he sits on the back porch overlooking the huge backyard, bundled up with a mug in hand, he can’t help but be restless. Link is unsuccessfully rolling the now two inch thick snow into balls for a snowman. He started with a baby one that currently perches on the wooden railing in front of Rhett where he built it. The grin on his face when he presented it half an hour ago was nothing short of blinding, and Rhett couldn’t help the grin he gave in response. But watching him now, huffing and puffing and cursing the uncooperative snow, it’s funny.

Rhett loves to watch Link. Whether it’s at the office while he’s digging around in the law library, perfectly tailored suit showing off all his curves and sharp angles; or in the bedroom with his head tucked between Rhett’s legs, hair a mess and cheeks hollowed; or now, struggling to build a proper snowman, he loves to watch. Link is a fascinating person no matter how much they fight and argue, and watching him gives Rhett time to _think_. 

But he doesn’t get to think for long before a snowball hits him in the shoulder. His coffee splashes over the side of the mug and onto his jacket, startling him. Indignant now, Rhett sets the mug down and stands, glaring in Link’s direction. 

“You spilled my coffee, man!” 

Link shrugs, another snowball in hand ready to throw and a mischievous smirk on his face. Rhett doesn’t have the chance to get away; another snowball is being hurled towards him. Link cackles when it lands squarely on Rhett’s chest, knocking into him with a dull thud and seeping through the thick top layer of his jacket. He gawks at Link while the other man laughs loudly, nearly doubled over with it. 

“Link!” Rhett stomps down the porch steps and wipes the snow off his clothes. 

Before he can get very far Link is taunting him with another ball being tossed between his hands. “Rhett!” Link mimics. His smile is bright and his cheeks are red and puffy from the ice cold air, and he looks _happy_. Rhett stops dead in his tracks at the sight then shakes his head and keeps going. 

“Don’t you dare throw that thing, Link,” he warns. 

“Whatcha gonna do about it, big guy?” Link tosses the snowball into the air and catches it smoothly in the other hand. He’s casual standing there, smile on his face, knowing he’s flustered Rhett. 

Rhett grins right back suddenly and gathers enough snow in his hands to form his own snowball. When he stands he rears back his hand and throws the ball as fast as he can at Link. It just barely grazes the top of his hair and lands somewhere behind him on the ground. 

Gasping dramatically, Link readies to throw his, shouts, “It’s on!” and lobs it hard. Rhett dodges it swiftly and makes himself a new one while Link runs away and hides behind his abandoned attempt at a snowman.

Rhett can’t remember the last time he had fun like this. He can’t remember the last time he felt this carefree either, instead of bogged down by the workload of being a lawyer. Usually his days off are spent in a mix between alone and with his family, usually drinking and eating to excess in the comfort of his pajamas when he’s alone or enjoying his mama's cooking when he spends time with family. But this is different. This is fun, he’s having fun with _Link_ of all people. 

They run around for a long time, both with their own pile of snowballs, and Rhett doesn’t think about how silly they probably look: two men in their late thirties having a snowball fight. The longer they stay out the colder it gets and eventually a light snow begins to fall in the early afternoon. Link’s cheeks are just as red and wind chapped as Rhett’s feel when he looks over at him, panting with his hands resting on his knees. 

“We’re too old for this,” he huffs and Rhett laughs. Link grins and walks over to him, shoving his shoulder gently.

Rhett knocks into him and shoves one last snowball down the front of his jacket, ignoring the hitch in his chest when Link squeals and unconsciously grabs his hands. He’s breathless with laughter and his hands are squeezing Rhett’s too tight and Rhett is a second away from losing his mind at how good it feels like this. Instead of fighting they’re laughing, instead of arguing over something silly they’re playing in the snow, instead of being _rivals_ they’re being something close to _friends_. 

_But I want more_.

The thought is startling. He hasn’t had this thought in a long time, spent so long fighting it down so he wouldn’t hurt himself in the end, and now it’s showing its ugly face again. The urge to pick a fight hits him strong. Rhett pushes it down, squeezes Link’s hands, and leans forward to kiss him. Link meets him halfway and it’s great, it’s good; the urge to pick a fight lessens with Link’s lips on his, and the longer they kiss the better it gets. He can do this. Rhett can stand in the snow kissing Link, his most despised coworker, and pretend it’s just because they have a truce that allows them to do this. When they go back to work the truce will break and they will pick up where they left off.

Eventually Link pulls away. He’s got his eyes closed but a soft smile on his lips. Rhett swallows hard and slips his hands around cold cheeks to drag him back into another kiss. Heated and growing desperate, Rhett groans and Link’s hands come to rest on his waist. There’s three layers separating his skin from Link’s hands but Rhett swears he can feel the warmth to the bone. 

“It’s freezing,” Rhett whispers, thumbs smoothing across Link’s cheeks. “Let’s go take a shower.”

Link nods and swallows; the movement draws Rhett’s eyes to the bob of his adam’s apple and he licks his lips. “Come on, my shower’s bigger.” He winks, takes Rhett by the wrist, and together they hurry inside.

*  
Inside, Rhett crowds Link into the steamy shower, back pressed tightly to the slick wall. He kisses Link hard, doesn’t think about the panic gnawing at his insides over how simple all of this is. Part of him could get used to having Link just like this, happy and laughing one moment and moaning unabashedly in the shower the next, without a heated argument as their excuse. But the other part of him—the part that’s panicking—needs one of them to snap, to get keyed up, to do _something_ that would justify feeling the way he does. Without the fight, sex with Link feels too much like intimacy, too much like everything he refuses to let himself want.

Rhett uses his height and overall size to crowd Link further into the wall and his hands to cradle Link’s face, angle his head just right so Rhett can kiss him deeper. Shaking hands grasp at his waist and try to pull him even closer but he can’t _get_ closer, they’re as close as two people can be. Link hooks a leg around his thigh and digs his heel into Rhett’s calf and Rhett takes the hint, will gladly use this as a distraction from the way his gut is churning. 

Working Link open with two fingers coated in lube is the easiest thing in the world. Link opens up readily, and is loose and pliant and rocking his hips desperately in no time. Rhett slides his clean hand around Link’s neck, fingers tangling in damp hair, kisses Link like he can’t get enough; with the hand covered in lube he lines himself up and slowly pushes in until Link is gasping and panting against his mouth. Stilling his hips, Rhett just breathes. He noses his way along Link’s jawline and up behind his ear and kisses that spot that makes him laugh. Maybe because he can, maybe because they have a truce that only extends to their arguing ways, maybe because he wants to. 

Whatever it is, Rhett is torn over whether he likes it or not. 

Link touches his lower back with firm fingers and digs in, urging him to start moving. So Rhett does. He lets go of Link’s neck and braces himself on the wall by his head then uses his other hand to hitch Link’s leg up higher, around his hip. The shift allows him to slide deeper, causing him to groan loudly. He begins a slow pace of shallow thrusts that over time grow deeper and harder. Every thrust sends Link roughly sliding up the wall or has him clinging onto Rhett’s back and shoulders in a desperate attempt to drag Rhett closer. 

When Rhett gets a hand between them and wraps it around Link’s cock, Link whimpers and shuts his eyes. He tries to rock into the touch but they’re so close he can’t move very much. Rhett slicks him up with the precum beading excessively at the tip and pumps Link in time with his own thrusts. The steam makes it hard to breathe; the lack of space between them makes it harder. 

Link curses and Rhett buries his face in Link’s neck. He sucks a mark into his wet skin, soothes the spot with his tongue, then leans back to look at the blooming red spot. Link moans low and the sound reverberates in Rhett’s chest. Harder and harder he thrusts and strokes his hand over Link’s cock and finally, finally with hands digging into his lower back, Link cums onto his own stomach and Rhett’s hand. 

Rhett follows, grunting and moaning his release into Link’s neck. Link slumps against the shower wall, breathless, nails still stinging sharp into Rhett’s back. The panic gnawing its way through Rhett’s insides has lessened and his chest isn’t as tight. This is good, he can do _this_ : he can do the afterglow of sex with Link where he isn’t feeling _feelings_ or panicking.

“Still cold?” Link asks quietly. Rhett shakes his head and a hand cards through his wet curls and scrapes over his scalp gently. Link holds him while they both catch their breath. 

At home Rhett would pull away. He would pretend like he didn’t notice Link reaching out, or leaning in for a kiss afterwards. Gentle touches and fingers massaging his scalp and softly spoken words would have him fleeing faster than he thought possible. They’ve had their moments where one or both of them would slip and show an ounce of emotion or feelings for the other. But for the most part neither of them have cracked. Here, everything is different. Here, where Link makes him hot chocolate after a snowball fight and kisses him softly in the kitchen while making him breakfast, Rhett stays perfectly still in Link's embrace, terrified by how wonderful it feels to not run away.

Link pushes Rhett away after another silent minute and under the spray of the still-warm water. He grabs a bar of soap and Rhett grabs shampoo and together they clean each other up. The water feels nice after an afternoon of playing in the snow followed by sex. Link scrubs Rhett’s hair then his own and Rhett is struck with the urge to dip down and kiss him, just because. He fights it and turns them so the water washes away the soap on Link’s body. 

After a few minutes of silent scrubbing and fighting urges down, Rhett turns the water off and reaches for the fluffy towel folded neatly in the corner. Link steps into it when he holds it open, Rhett _doesn’t_ think about how willingly Link goes, and then grabs one for himself. 

By the time they’re both dry Rhett’s mind is reeling. His chest is constricting on the verge of too tight and his hands have begun to shake where they hold the knotted towel around his waist. Link grabs his hands to keep them steady and Rhett lets himself be led into the bedroom.

The entirety of Link’s bedroom is gigantic. With a king sized bed against the farthest wall, the room is framed by a picturesque view of the mountains through floor to ceiling windows. The ceiling is high with wooden beams that match the rest of the cabin and the furniture inside is chic and expensive. Forget Rhett’s room, _this_ is the room he’s in love with. All wood and a huge bed and he’s set for the rest of vacation.

He snickers at his own thought and Link smirks, head tilted as they walk. “Your room is enormous, man. I could live in here for the rest of vacation.” Link grins and shakes his head. 

“It’s not that great,” he grumbles and plops onto the edge of the bed. His towel slips loose, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Rhett swallows hard watching him scoot backwards until he’s starfished in the middle of the huge space, naked and flushed from a shower.

A surge of affection rushes through his chest watching Link get comfortable. It’s too warm, too much all at once. Rhett clears his throat, says, “It is!” and crawls onto the bed next to him. 

Link rolls his eyes. “Trust me, I grew up spending most of my vacations in this room, and a lot of adulthood, too. You get used to it after awhile.” Rhett turns and settles on his elbow, leaning over Link a little and regarding him quietly for a moment.

He says nothing at first and Link grows restless under his gaze. If he knows Link like he thinks he does, then he knows this kind of conversation will start an argument. He wants it yet he doesn’t want it. He wants to fight and argue and be who they are at work, but he’s really liking how easy it is to be with Link just like this. So instead he asks, “Wanna watch a movie?” and goes to settle against the many pillows lining the headboard. 

Rhett pats the spot next to him. Link sighs and joins him against the pillows, then digs around in the nightstand until he finds a remote for the TV hanging on the opposite wall. Rhett can’t help watching the way his ass flexes as he leans over, feels a twinge in his spent cock. He’s seen Link lounging around naked before and it never fails to set his pulse racing knowing how unapologetic Link is about it. He knows it drives Rhett crazy and tonight's no different. 

Link sits back, a slight smirk on his face when he looks at Rhett. Rhett huffs and takes the remote from him to turn on the TV, quelling his urges one of the only ways he knows how: by taking over the situation. He does it at work when he doesn’t like how Link is handling a client, he does it in the bedroom when he wants the conversation to steer away from any kind of feelings talk, and he does it when he’s uncomfortable. And right now he’s a little uncomfortable with Link naked and so close and his own chest filled with a warmth he wishes would go away. 

They pick a movie finally and Rhett tries his best not to argue about the selection. He wants to, _badly_ , but he doesn’t. The sun has set behind the trees outside their cabin, and the room has begun to cool, prompting Link to yank back the covers and slip underneath. He nudges at Rhett and Rhett awkwardly slides under with him, grateful for the size of the bed as it prevents them from being too close. He doesn’t think he could handle being too close right now.

As Rhett tries to find a comfortable position against the mountain of pillows at his back, he abruptly realizes he can hear a lot more than the opening dialogue of the film Link chose. Rhett knows from experience that Link likes to talk _a lot_. He does it when he’s nervous, happy, excited, it doesn’t matter: Link Neal likes to talk. And right now he’s running his mouth during the beginning of the movie, talking nonsense about the actors and this or that about the filming location, and Rhett can’t stand it. He’s gesturing with his hands a lot and nearly smacks Rhett in the face at one point.

“Link—“ He’s ignored and Link continues. “Link, shut up.” 

There’s that surge of affection again. Rhett feels it start in his fingers this time and work its way up through his hands and arms and all the way to his throat where it feels like he’s going to be choked by it. The movie drones on and on in the background but Rhett has tuned it out in favor of watching Link gesture wildly with his hands. His blankets are draped loosely across his waist as he lounges against the headboard, casual and carefree. Again, Rhett is hit with the urge to start an argument and cause a scene just so the feelings will go away.

“Link, will you shut up? I can’t hear the movie!” Rhett says loudly. The next time a hand comes flying at his face mid-gesture he snatches it out of the air and holds it. Link keeps talking.

Now Rhett isn’t sure what he’s talking about. He’s steered away from the movie and gotten distracted by something else, something that seems to have gotten him riled up and ready to spit. Rhett rolls his eyes, grabs the other hand, and folds them in his lap, but to his dismay Link is still blabbering on and on. 

“Link!” Rhett explodes. Link jumps, startled, and turns his head it look at Rhett, then down at his hands in Rhett’s lap; his eyes go wide like he didn’t realize Rhett had grabbed them.

“What?” he finally responds after a beat. 

“Will you be quiet? I can’t hear the movie.” Rhett pats his hands then lets them go. Link doesn’t move them. Instead he shifts around so he’s closer to Rhett. 

“You know you like it when I talk, Rhett.” He speaks low, voice a rumble. Rhett swallows so hard his throat clicks. 

“No I don’t,” Rhett retorts. There’s a blush creeping its way across his body and over his cheeks. Link must notice because Rhett can see him fighting a smile. 

Link jerks up onto his knees, hands landing on either side of Rhett’s legs, an idiotic grin stretching across his face. “You do! You’re blushing!” He cackles loudly, head thrown back in pure joy at Rhett’s reddening skin. “Look at you!” 

Rhett smacks his shoulder and tries to shove him out of the way. Link doesn’t budge, only scooches closer and brings that bright grin too close for comfort. “I don’t like hearing you talk. You're annoying when you really get going.” He’s adamant that he’s going to have the last word. Link is _not_ going to win this one. 

“Rhett, don’t deny it. You love hearing me talk,” Link says, laughter dying down. That smile is still stretched across his face and Rhett thinks he looks completely _dumb_ and not cute at all leaning over him smiling like that. Though the pang in his chest might suggest otherwise, Rhett is not feeling anything. 

Rhett shakes his head, “Nope. Not a chance, buddyroll.” 

Link’s features soften and he sits up, crawling over Rhett and situating himself on covered thighs. Rhett looks away: at the ceiling, at the navy blue covers, at the movie still playing, everywhere in the room but Link’s face. 

“You do, Rhett. You love my voice.” Said voice drops to a whisper and Link comes closer. Rhett doesn’t like where this is going. He doesn’t like how close Link is getting, with his body or his words. He squirms under Link’s weight on his legs. “You love it when I ramble.”

_Nope. No_.

“No, I don’t. Like I said, it’s _annoying_ ,” Rhett grumbles and crosses his arms over his chest to hide the blush staining his skin. He still won’t look at Link.

Then, without warning, gentle fingers are grabbing his chin and turning his head. He shuts his eyes stubbornly. Link won’t win this, he won’t drag anything out of Rhett at all. He’s like a fortress. A fortress that’s on fire maybe, but a fortress nonetheless. He tries to jerk his chin out of Link’s grasp; Link’s hold is firm. That itch is back and it needs to be scratched, badly. He could glare, he could find something mean to say, he could shove Link away with a few harsh words and leave, go to bed in his own room.

Rhett wiggles around and the move jostles Link in his lap. He’s half hard against Rhett’s thigh, eyes fluttering closed when Rhett moves. He could use this to his advantage; hold Link’s hips down and help him grind on the layer of blankets and strong muscles underneath until he’s babbling and has forgotten what he was saying. Rhett entertains the idea for a second while Link stares at him.

The grasp on his chin loosens and Link’s hand drops. His mouth pops open like he’s going to say something, pauses, then wants to say it again. Rhett heaves a sigh, thinking he’s dodged a bullet, but then Link is opening his mouth again, is about to speak, and Rhett panics for what feels like the thousandth time in two days.

There have been many times throughout the years where Link has made Rhett think that maybe he felt more than he was letting on. A soft smile here, a gentle kiss there, late night exhausted exhalations that Rhett pretended he didn’t hear. He’s seen many longing stares, has probably given just as many, and he’s felt things in rare moments that he never thought he could feel for this man. And every single time he has panicked and ran away. Tonight is no exception.

Link touches his face, fingertips a light brush over his flushed cheek, his own face crumpling under the weight of _something_. Fear coils hot and tight in Rhett’s gut. 

A breathless accusation, “You love m—“ and Rhett jerks him forward into a bruising kiss. Link gasps, allows the kiss for a moment, but then he’s pushing Rhett away. “Rhett, don’t shut me out anymore.”

“I’m not,” Rhett says and kisses him again. He is, technically, shutting Link out but he won’t admit that to Link. He won’t admit to anything. _Fortress_. He’ll deny everything, plead the fifth, whatever he needs to steer this conversation away from feelings. 

“You are,” Link murmurs, lips brushing Rhett’s as he speaks. This time Link is the one kissing Rhett, pressing closer, using his hands to tug at the blankets and the towel still around Rhett’s waist. He rises up enough to get the blankets out of the way, jerks at the knot on the towel. Rhett groans and settles his hands on Link’s waist; he’s fully prepared to drag Link into his lap, work him open a second time tonight and push his cock into Link. But Rhett’s entire body is on fire, he’s tense and not in a good way, and his heart is going to hammer right out of his chest. 

It’s easy to push Link away, but it’s harder to get out of his bed. Link’s expression shifts into something of a scowl and he’s reaching for Rhett’s hand. Rhett steps back, holding the towel around his waist before it can slip down. “Link, I’m not shutting you out. _Stop_.” He’s lying and Link knows it. 

“Fine,” Link spits and crosses his arms over his chest after pulling the blankets back around himself. “Get out, then. You can’t sleep in here.”

So Rhett goes without looking back. The entire walk to his room feels heavy, like he’s walking away from something good and with each step that opportunity might be slipping away from him. But they called a _truce_ , that’s why he feels this way, that’s why his mind is reeling and his heart is pounding away in his chest. 

_It’s not, dumbass_.

His bed is soft when he falls face first onto it, towel and all, and shoves his face into the top pillow. He’s not going to think about this anymore, he’s not. He’s going to sleep it off, he’s going to wake up in the morning, he’s going to shake off the intimacy that nighttime seems to bring, and everything will be _fine_. He and Link will be back to normal, even if the truce is still in place, and Rhett _will be fine_.

Rhett sighs heavily, closes his eyes, and wishes for sleep.

*  
On the third day Rhett wakes with knots in his stomach and a pounding headache. After barely sleeping, he’s irritable and moody, would rather hide under the blankets and sulk than deal with Link all day. Hiding is tempting, but he can’t. He has to be a man and suck it up; he invited himself on this vacation after all. 

He runs into Link in the hallway and they awkwardly pass with a mumbled good morning. Link side eyes him on his way by but Rhett hurries into the bathroom with his things and shuts the door, sighing once he’s safely on the other side. A moment later there’s a quiet knock on the door. Rhett groans out, “Go away, Link,” and flicks the lock.

“You’re being a baby,” Link huffs through the door. 

“Am not,” Rhett replies as he whips his sweats off and tosses them in the corner. In a fit of restlessness last night, he got up and down multiple times. Once to put clothes on, the second to take his shirt off, the third because he couldn’t get comfortable. It became a cycle for over an hour that eventually lead to a fitful sleep of tossing and turning. 

“Rhett—

“I’m taking a shower,” he says, turning the water on full blast. “I can’t hear you, sorry!” It’s childish, he knows, but he doesn’t care. As long as Link leaves him alone for a bit he _just doesn’t care_.

He hears Link knock one more time, let out a frustrated grunt, and then nothing.

Starting the rest of his day is just as awkward as the beginning of the day. He showers and he dresses, takes his time finishing up in the bathroom to delay seeing Link. But he can’t stay in the bathroom all day and eventually comes out to go downstairs. 

Link is waiting for him with a scowl and breakfast. And again Rhett has to swallow past a lump in his throat at the domestic gesture, even if it comes with a side of accusatory glare. Link pats the chair next to him at the breakfast nook and motions to the bowl of cereal. “Sit down and eat.” Link glares when Rhett shakes his head no. “Rhett, I swear if you ruin my vacation because you—“

Rhett holds his hands up and joins him at the table, muttering a, “Fine, _fine_.” Link rolls his eyes but he’s smiling now as he pushes the bowl of cereal over to Rhett. “Mini wheats? Link!”

“It’s all we got! I didn’t order groceries before we came.” Link takes a bite of his own cereal before continuing. “We’ll need to make a trip today before the heavy snow starts later.” The use of _we_ makes him pause.

Rhett considers it for a minute while he begrudgingly eats some cereal. He could go with Link and help shop and just have a nice outing, but that temptation to hide is still strong. Hiding in his room sounds like a great plan to avoid anything happening with Link. _Talking_ is not something he wants to do right now, feelings are not something he wants to even think about. He spent enough time last night worrying over their exchange in Link’s bed. 

Finally after a minute of thinking he decides he’ll go. Getting out would be a nice change of pace, a breath of fresh air after spending two days in this cabin with Link. He nods and Link grins. 

“I’ll go with you on one condition.” Rhett points to the cereal bowl. “No more of this nasty shit. Get the good cereal.” 

“What’s wrong with mini wheats?” Link asks, offended. He pokes at his own bowl, frowning. “They’re good for you! And tasty.”

Rhett huffs and pokes at the soggy mess in his bowl with his spoon. “Link, it’s gross!” He shoves his bowl back and the spoon clatters loudly to the tabletop.

That desire to pick a fight begins anew under his skin. Link is getting frustrated next to him, face turning pink and hand clenching around his own spoon. He’s getting keyed up, over cereal of all things, and Rhett just knows if he doesn’t diffuse the situation the truce will definitely be broken and they’ll spend their morning arguing. So he turns, grabs Link by the back of the neck, and drags him into a sugary sweet kiss. 

Link tenses briefly, and then from one second to the next, melts into it with a moan. Rhett uses his foot to shove the table away for more room, enough to manhandle Link into a standing position in front of him, stomach pressing into the edge of the table. He gasps when Rhett yanks down his sweats, moans louder when Rhett shoves him onto the tabletop, and scrambles for purchase when his knees are knocked apart wider. Both cereal bowls skid across the table, milk and mini wheats spilling on the otherwise clean surface and onto the floor. 

The sex is quick and fast. Rhett works him open with spit, fingers, and tongue and Link desperately clings to the table with his face hidden against the tabletop. He gasps and moans as Rhett fills him up in one smooth motion, and Rhett has to hold onto something so he grasps at Link’s hip with one hand and the back of his shirt with the other. He bunches the shirt in his hand and his fingers dig in to warm skin and this is good, the itchy thrum is going away with every hard thrust and grind against Link’s ass.

Link cums first, spilling hot and fast onto the floor and his own thigh. He pants against the table and digs nails into the surface in a white knuckled grip. Rhett moans as Link’s ass clenches around his cock, providing a deliciously tight space for him to fuck into. It isn’t long before he’s following with a shout and a groan, collapsing on top of Link after he’s finished.

For a moment Rhett lays there, panting and huffing into Link’s neck, breath ruffling his hair. He loosens his hold on Link’s hip, kisses his shoulder once then twice and on the third one slips out and stands. Link sighs as Rhett gently pulls his sweats back up around him. Rhett does the same with his and watches Link shuffle around so he too is standing, back to chest with Rhett. 

“Link—“ Rhett starts but doesn’t know what to say. Instead he buries his face in the nape of Link’s neck where the hair is almost too short and wraps an arm around his waist and this is _fine_ , he’s fine for just this one moment. 

“Let’s clean up and head to town,” Link says, then, with a quiet sigh, “We have to talk about this later.” 

Rhett releases him and together they clean themselves and the kitchen spotless, both silently lost in thoughts they seem unable to speak aloud.

*  
The trip to town in their rental car is a silent one. Rhett watches the snow fall slowly outside on the way into the small but lively town square and by the time they’re at the store the flakes have stopped altogether. The sky is a dull gray and if it weren’t for his watch reading _9:47_ then he’d never know it was still morning as they trudge through the slush and inside. 

Link has a list, and Rhett helps the best he can, but he spends much of the trip biting his tongue, afraid that something--the wrong cereal, differing milk preferences, even a debate over white versus whole wheat bread--will set one of them off and send the whole truce idea crashing down around them. Link finds everything silently, only speaks when he needs Rhett to reach things on particularly high shelves. His shoulders are set in a tense hunch, brows drawn together and mouth turned down in a frown while they shop. He wanders up and down the aisles, Rhett pushing the shopping cart, neither of them paying much attention to the other.

On the drive back, Rhett sits in silence for a few minutes before finally saying something. “Nice town. It’s pretty, I could see myself living in a place like this.” He shrugs when Link glances over at him, surprise on his face. “I’d hafta learn to love driving in the snow, though. At least L.A. roads aren’t a hazard.” 

Link scoffs and that hunch in his shoulders is back. Rhett rolls his eyes. He watches the sky for a couple of minutes, gets bored with the quiet of the car fast.

“Are you not gonna talk to me? I’m bored.”

Link just hums in response, makes a right turn. Rhett sighs audibly and turns a little in his seat to face Link more head on. 

“You’re not very good at multitasking, ya know that?” It’s a low blow mentioning Link’s lack of multitasking skills when it comes to mundane things. He’s good at doing many things at the office, is often praised for his ability to have and complete multiple tasks at once. But things like driving, Link goes silent or he talks so much he misses nearly every turn. Rhett has always found it annoying. 

At a stop light Link taps his fingers on the steering wheel and Rhett swears he can hear his teeth grinding. “You talk too loud sometimes,” he mutters. Rhett whips his head around in disbelief. “When you really get goin’, your voice gets louder an’ louder.” Link’s lips turn up in a slight smirk. When the light turns green he hits the gas and continues on, out of town.

Rhett smacks his arm, scoffing at him. “I do not!” he retorts, loudly, and winces. “Okay, maybe a little bit.”

The last stretch of road to the cabin is filled with tense silence. Rhett crosses his arms over his chest to stop his hands from shaking. 

As Link is making the final turn off the main road and onto the long driveway, he suddenly snaps his fingers. Rhett rolls his eyes again, knows exactly where this is going. Once Link latches on to an idea, sometimes he can't let go until he's thoroughly exhausted the topic, beaten it into the ground. “Ya know what else you do? God, it frustrates me to no end!”

“Enlighten me.” He gestures with a hand in a _go on_ move. Link taps the steering wheel a few times, smirk firmly in place on his face.

“When you’re worked up, you tap your pens, pencils, highlighters, _everything_ on any hard surface.” He slows down on the driveway, taking his time. “And you do it during client meetings, too.” 

Rhett undoes his seat belt and turns fully towards Link, tense silence turning into frustration, face screwed up in a scowl. “What about you and your chewing?”

Link is the one rolling his eyes this time. “What about my chewing?” he asks. His voice sounds strained, like he’s trying not to have an outburst. Link’s temper has always been worse than Rhett’s; oftentimes he’ll have outbursts over the silliest things, sometimes pissing clients off enough to make them leave. Rhett despises that temper. 

“Link, you chew things that don’t need to be chewed! You’re loud and you chew like a million times!” Rhett throws his hands up in the air. He’s getting louder, just like Link said he does, but he doesn’t much care right now. He can feel the tension beginning to settle in his muscles, leaving him with a feeling he can’t shake. “Who chews _that_ much?”

Link pulls in front of the cabin and puts the car in park. “Me, apparently!” Ya king the key out of the ignition, he slams his door open then closes it hard enough it rattles. Rhett follows him around the car for the groceries, both of them grabbing bags and glaring at the other. “And, _and_ , you think you’re always right!”

Rhett snatches the last bag out of the trunk while Link closes the lid. As he follows him across the walkway to the door he watches the way Link’s shoulders tense up and the stiff way he walks. He’s _pissed_. How did this get away from them so fast? Why did Rhett have to give in to the desire to poke at Link, just once, to try and ease the tension clawing at his chest? Rhett balls his fist around the handles of the grocery bags, scowling at Link’s backside. 

“That’s because I am!” he explodes. It’s a bad move, he knows it, but the argument has started. He can either lean into it or let it slide, and he’s not the type to let things slide so easily. If Link wants to argue, then they’re going to argue, truce be damned. 

Link throws the front door open, stomping his feet on the way inside. “Rhett, you can’t always be right, it’s not possible.” A bag hits the floor in Link’s hurry to get inside, but he makes no effort to pick it up. He keeps stomping his way to the kitchen with the other groceries, grumbling under his breath about annoying bearded lawyers and their annoying habits.

“Yeah, well,” Rhett huffs and shoves the front door closed with his foot. He can hear Link dropping bags on the countertops, still mumbling. “You always gotta have the last word in an argument, Link.” Rhett joins him in the kitchen and deposits his load of bags. Link is already unpacking the first few, hands white knuckled around the items as he puts them where they need to go. “Every fucking case, every client meeting, anything that sets you off. You’ll argue and argue until you get the last word in. Just shut up for once!”

Chest heaving, Rhett takes a deep breath to calm his racing pulse. Link has frozen at the cabinets, doors wide open, jar of peanut butter still clutched in his hand. His temper is flaring, and Rhett can sense he’s trying to hold it back, can see the way his hands are shaking and a vein is popping in his neck.

“How ‘bout _you_ shut up for once?!” Link finally explodes. He slams the cabinet doors shut one by one, storms around Rhett, and out of the room. Rhett watches him go, the heated expression on Link’s face as he walks by setting Rhett’s gut on fire. 

“See!” Rhett yells. He finds Link in the family room where he’s starting the fireplace. Once it’s lit he starts puttering around just so he can put his hands to use: straightening the fire pokers, flipping the rug corner back into place, tossing a pillow onto the couch. Rhett has really ticked him off this time. Red in the face, Link comes to stand in front of Rhett. “Even something as stupid as this and you gotta have the last word!” 

Link throws his hands into the air and lets his head fall back and his eyes close tightly in frustration. With a groan, he demands, "Why are we even arguing, anyway?"

Rhett pauses. Why _are_ they arguing? He doesn’t even recall what set them off in the first place. 

“I don’t know!” he shouts.

“You called a truce, Rhett.” Link pokes him in the chest; he barely feels it through the coat still covering his body. “ _You_ said no bullshit, no arguing, or fighting. And look at us.” He motions between the two of them, frown on his face and cheeks reddening even more in his anger and the growing warmth of the room. “Day three and we’re in a screamin’ match. Barely eleven thirty and I already can’t stand to be around you!“ 

Rhett stares at him for a moment, feeling the punch of those words far more deeply in his chest than the physical prod of Link's finger just moments ago. Helplessly, he falls back on old, comfortable habits, and jerks Link forward into a desperate, heated kiss.

“Shut up,” Rhett mutters and kisses him again. “Just shut up.” He undoes the zipper of Link’s puffy black winter coat and pushes it off, Link wiggling it over his arms to help. He does the same with Rhett’s jacket and drops his hands to the hem of Rhett’s sweater, pausing with the material bunched in his fingers. 

“Rhett—“ 

Exasperated, Rhett silences him with another kiss. In a frantic rush they get each other undressed, Link’s hands shaking on every button and zipper, and Rhett trying his best to get his hands on every inch of Link he can. His pulse is flying with every piece of clothing removed and every bit of skin revealed; by the time they’re both naked and aroused, his heart just might beat out of his chest. 

Skin flushed and breathing ragged, Link clings to Rhett’s shoulders, drags him into another kiss. He nips at Rhett’s bottom lip at the same time Rhett pushes closer, tumbles them both backwards until Link is falling to his knees and taking Rhett with him. His hands roam the expanse of body before him and Rhett groans, uses his own hands to get Link flat on his back on the plush rug beneath them. The roaring fire is on the verge of too hot but he doesn’t care, he has Link under his hands and Link moaning and he just has _Link_.

Their argument is pushed to the back of his mind, bookmarked for later; he’ll come back to it if he has to. Right now he’s got a warm body to explore. Long fingers land in his hair and tug, Link’s lips finding his when they meet. There’s a pounding in Rhett’s veins and chest and he imagines, _hopes_ , Link feels the same as they kiss. 

This is how it should be, this is how it is at home; they argue, they have explosive screaming matches, they tear the other down, and then they come together in a climactic finale. Rhett doesn’t want it any other way, or at least he shouldn’t want it any other way. But this feels different, this right here. 

Rhett sucks Link’s bottom lip into his mouth, then lets it go with a wet pop. Link heaves a breath and he feels it beneath his own chest, knows he’s struggling to breathe just as much. Link’s skin is warm as he mouths his way across a sharp jawline, nips at the soft spot below his ear, runs his tongue along the smooth skin of neck and throat. A bite on the jugular is followed by lips trailing along collarbones and down Link’s chest. Rhett takes his time, tickles his fingers around Link’s ribs so he squirms.

When Rhett sucks and bites at Link’s nippl, Link curses and his hands tighten in Rhett’s hair. He moans and gasps as Rhett makes his way down, leaving behind a trail of spit and blooming red marks, continuing until his mouth is around Link’s cock. The further Rhett takes him into his mouth the louder the moans get. Rhett glances up, sees Link with his eyes closed and hands tugging at his own hair. He’s begun to sweat from the heat of the fire. 

For several moments Rhett just enjoys the sensation of Link’s cock in his mouth. He uses a hand on what he can’t reach and with his other teases at Link’s balls, dips further and further until he can trace a fingertip around Link’s hole. Link babbles and curses and one hand has come down to tangle in Rhett’s hair tightly. 

“There’s lube in my wallet, get it out,” Link commands. The hand in Rhett’s hair lets go and Rhett pulls off with a lewd amount of spit and precum shiny in his beard and on his mouth. He quickly finds said wallet and fumbles for the packet of lube, tosses it aside and grabs Link around the thighs to haul him forward. “ _Fuck_ , Rhett, come on, _please_.”

With spit, tongue, and two fingers Rhett works Link open. Link rocks his hips, cries out every time Rhett hits his prostate, babbles praise about how good it feels. He’s got a hand around his cock, stroking slowly, eyes closed and hair a mess. Rhett kisses him, because he needs to before he says something stupid. 

“Come on, m’ready, I’m so ready, Rhett,” Link mutters against his mouth. Insistent hands push at his shoulders and then they’re moving, Link using his legs around Rhett’s waist and hands on his shoulders to roll them so Link is on top. He snatches the lube off the floor and rips the packet open with his teeth, empties the contents into his palm, and grasps Rhett’s cock; he strokes a couple of times to smear the lube around. 

“Hurry up,” Rhett groans and grabs Link around the waist, urging him to move faster with his hands. He’s achingly hard in Link’s fist, precum spilling over excessively as Link slicks him up. His weight on Rhett’s thighs is pleasant and welcome, and if it were any other time, any other circumstances, Rhett would be content to do it just like this, with Link settled on top of him and Link’s hand around him. Instead he can only watch from his position underneath and wait. 

Finally Link rises up on his haunches, holds Rhett steady, and lines himself up before beginning a slow descent. He moans low and presses a hand onto Rhett’s chest for support, leans down for a kiss as he sinks onto Rhett’s cock. Rhett holds him around his hips, helps ease the way until he’s fully seated and gasping, nails biting sharp in Rhett’s chest when he bottoms out.

Rhett tips his head back to the floor with a soft _thud_ , breathes deep because the pressure around his cock is too much and not enough all at once. Link stills above him with a hand braced on Rhett’s chest, breathing with him, both of them in sync for a beat. The blue of his eyes is too intense gazing down at Rhett. Turning his head, Rhett takes in a shuddering breath. 

When Link rolls his hips Rhett sighs and closes his eyes. His grip on Link’s slender hips tightens then relaxes, over and over as Link begins an easy pace. As he grinds and rolls he ducks down for a kiss and Rhett can’t help burying his hands in Link’s sweat damp hair, can’t help chasing Link’s lips with his own when he tries to pull away. He whines and yanks Link back down into another kiss that’s deeper than the last and draws a rumble from Link’s chest. 

Link sits back, both hands roaming on Rhett’s chest now as he rocks. Rhett is desperate to touch so he smooths his palms over Link’s backside, up around his heaving ribcage, and back down to his ass where Rhett digs his fingers into the handfuls he finds. Link keens as Rhett kneads the muscles, knows there will be bruises by the next day; the idea of it makes Rhett grin and press harder, spread him open wider to take Rhett’s cock deeper and harder. 

While Rhett touches he also watches. Link has always had an aesthetically pleasing body; it’s part of what caught Rhett’s eye that first day he walked into the law office. Broad shoulders, long and lean torso, taut thighs, an ass that fits perfectly in Rhett’s hands, a slender waist that his hands can nearly encompass, Link Neal is nothing short of perfect. He looks great in his suits, looks even better out of them; street clothes, work clothes, naked, half-dressed, it doesn’t matter. But right now, in this moment, Rhett thinks he looks breathtaking. 

The firelight dances on every curve and crevice of Link’s body as he rocks with his hands planted on Rhett’s pecs. Sweat rolls from his hairline across his face, plasters his hair to his forehead, and Rhett wants to lick every drop until there’s nothing left. His torso is slick with it, the light making every plane of shifting muscle glisten. His face is screwed up in pleasure, eyes an unnatural blue in the daylight coming through the windows and the fire beside them, and his hair is a wild and sweaty halo on his head. If Rhett wasn’t already in trouble then he would be now, just because of this view. 

Link groans and picks up the pace, thrusting harder the faster he moves his hips. Rhett gets a hand on his cock and the other on his neck to tug him down into another hot kiss, both moaning into the other’s mouth. He jerks Link fast, fist tight around his dick, hand around his neck firm and possessive. They stay like that for what feels like forever but it isn’t long before Link is wrenching his mouth away and batting Rhett’s hand off. 

“ _Link_ , Link, fuck baby, come on,” Rhett begs. He gets his hands back on Link, encompassing his tiny waist with his big hands, and uses the grip to hold on, thrust up when Link rocks down, and _fuck_ that’s good. 

Rhett’s on the edge of a feeling, something tight and unrelenting singing through his veins every time their bodies meet and wring out broken moans and strangled gasps; it’s overpowering and he knows what it is, has felt it before in many instances like this one. He needs _more_ and _now_ , and Link must read his mind because he’s leaning back, hands resting on Rhett’s thighs, entire body lengthening with the stretch. This extends his torso, flattens his stomach, brings out every curve of his biceps, shows off the muscles in his thighs. Sighing at the change in angle, Link rocks his pelvis slow at first then finds his rhythm, tips his head back, and loses himself in it. He’s drunk with it, with sex and too much feeling all at once. 

Rhett can tell he’s overwhelmed in the way he moans and sighs and tilts his head to the high ceilings. He’s jabbering curses, flexing his fingers in Rhett’s trembling thighs. The way his entire body tenses and shifts with every thrust of his hips sends Rhett into a frenzy and he’s desperate to touch more skin again. Link’s cock leaking onto his own stomach, smearing wet over his abs, entices Rhett with an obscene display and he can’t resist getting a hand back around it. 

With an expert twist of his hand around the head and a firm stroke on the way down, Rhett brings Link closer and closer to release. He’s whining and practically begging for it, movement of his hips becoming erratic and choppy the closer he gets. His hands are like vices on Rhett’s thighs but he doesn’t care. Link could make him bleed and he wouldn’t give a damn. 

Finally, Link gasps and releases a strangled moan as he bears down, thrusting hard on Rhett’s cock, and cums in thick white streaks over Rhett’s hand and his own chest. He shudders and shakes and Rhett doesn’t let up with his strokes, keeps going until every drop has been wrung out of the other man. Breathing ragged and heavy, Link pushes off and leans over Rhett and kisses him deep, sighing into Rhett’s mouth as he comes down from his high. 

Sobbing helplessly, Rhett wrestles his hand out from between their bodies and goes to wrap both around Link’s waist, hold onto him so he can really fuck into him, but Link surprises him by pinning his wrists down by his head. Rhett stops, struggles against the hold. But Link is stronger and effectively keeps him there, hands against the soft rug beneath them, fingers firm around his wrists. 

“Link,” Rhett husks. He’s close to bursting; he can feel it in his spine and his thighs and his belly. “What are you doin’?” 

There’s something in Link’s eyes as he stares at Rhett that makes him shiver. Link rolls down, squeezes his ass around Rhett’s cock teasingly despite how sensitive he himself must be. Rhett’s eyes flutter closed at the sensation. “Now that I have your attention,” Link says and does the move again. Rhett moans and thunks his head on the floor none too gently. “Let’s talk.” 

Rhett can’t think. He can’t breathe and he can’t focus, but he’s acutely aware of the man still seated on his dick and the hands still holding him down. Link kisses him once, twice, a third time and then his hands go from a bruising grip to a gentle circle around his wrists. Featherlight fingertips trace over the veins and down his arms, back up, all the way to Rhett’s palms where Link weaves their hands together. He keeps them pinned to the floor but the tight grip is gone. 

“I just—“ Link squeezes again and lifts himself up, rocks back down with a slight wince. “I want you to talk to me, Rhett.”

Rhett groans and thrusts his hips, drives his cock deeper, desperate to get off. Link whimpers, barely audible. “I don’t wanna talk,” Rhett huffs. 

A sharp thrust and another squeeze, ass and hands both, and Link is the one sobbing this time. “I _do_. Rhett, I want you to—“ a pause when Rhett rolls his hips, “I want you to admit that there’s _something_ here.” 

Rhett tosses his head back and squirms under Link’s pleasant weight. He needs to cum so badly he can taste it. He curls his toes on the floor, tries to get Link to let go. “No,” he whines. 

Another slow, persistent roll and Link leans down, presses his mouth to the work-worn wrinkles around Rhett’s eyes. He ghosts his way across Rhett’s sweaty face and noses his way into Rhett’s hair, breathes deep. Rhett is going to die, either from Link’s steadily gyrating hips or his words, he isn’t sure. 

In one more sweep of delicate kisses, Link pauses, lips brushing against the shell of Rhett's ear as he sobs, "I want _you_ and you won't fucking pay attention." Rhett tenses at the confession, cums hot and fast inside Link, their hands clasped so tight he feels his bones creak.

Rhett finishes with a cry of Link’s name. It takes ages to come back to himself, to stop his hands from shaking and his thighs from trembling. Link holds him steady through the whole thing and presses soft kisses to his face when he’s spent and melting into the floor. Every point of connection feels electric and all consuming, from their hands wound together to his cock softening inside Link and all the way to his toes. Rhett groans long and low when Link lifts off and settles on his thighs.

“What the fuck, Link?” Rhett pants. He can’t catch his breath fast enough.

Link doesn’t answer. Instead he scoots backwards and stands using Rhett’s legs for support as he lifts. Once he’s standing above Rhett, naked and sweat-slick, he reaches for Rhett’s hands. Helping Rhett stand is no easy task with both of them shaking and spent, but they manage it.

Rhett stares at Link and Link stares back, and for a moment Rhett doesn’t feel panicked or itching to pick a fight. He once again feels a rush of something sweet, something intimate, and lets the headiness of it rock him forward into a deep kiss. Link threads messy fingers in his hair and tugs him closer, clings to Rhett like his life depends on it. For this one kiss, these few seconds, everything is settled and his heart isn’t racing. He’s high from his orgasm and most likely floating on a cloud, and Link isn’t keyed up about one thing or another. 

But Rhett can’t help the panic creeping back in after a few moments. They don’t show affection or intimacy; they argue and fight and show aggression. He can’t reconcile those feelings with the ones he’s felt these few days in a cabin secluded in the snowy mountains and forest. With a truce between them, they can explore more, they can put aside the L.A. versions of themselves. The thought startles him to the point of jerking away and putting space between them.

“I can’t do this, I—“ He’s flustered and sputtering, doesn’t know how to speak suddenly. The anxious panic welling inside him hits hard. He can see it clearly, the way they _could_ be, and he doesn’t know how to move from rival lawyers to two people who don’t hate each other without screwing up the careful balance they have maintained for years, making himself vulnerable in a way he has to admit is terrifying.

Link doesn’t let him finish. Instead, he spits out a harsh, “Screw you,” and shoves Rhett further away, out of his immediate space. He covers himself with his arms crossed over his chest, averts his gaze, and waits for Rhett to leave. He’s bursting with shame, skin flushing pink-red in the harsh rush of post-orgasm high, refusing to even look at Rhett. Shuffling from foot to foot, Link flicks his eyes everywhere but Rhett’s face. 

And in a move that only Rhett could pull off, he leaves. 

*  
The majority of the day passes in tense and awkward silence. Rhett emerges from a shower to Link hiding in his bedroom and takes the hint to leave him alone. He hides in his own room as well, passes the time on his phone and Netflix. But occupying his time by hiding doesn’t quell the urge he has to find Link, to talk to him, maybe figure this out and try to find where everything took a wrong turn.

It’s not until mid-afternoon is fading into early evening that Rhett hears Link’s bedroom door open and shut with a loud bang. He listens to footsteps come closer and stop outside his door; he can see Link’s shadow moving around on the floor, probably pacing. He watches and listens for a long time, then finally the door is flung open and slams against the wall behind it.

Link is not a small person in any way, shape or form, but he looks tiny standing in Rhett’s room wrapped in a thick blanket. He’s worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and his glasses are slipping down his nose; his hair is fluffy from the lack of brushing after a shower and his cheeks are beginning to flush the longer he stands there staring. Link shuffles around on his feet, clears his throat.

“I’m going to town for an early dinner.” Link fixes his eyes on a spot over Rhett’s shoulder. “D’you wanna come?” Hi uncertainty is obvious by the way he's standing, fingers twisting over each other, nervous. 

Rhett considers him for a beat then shrugs lightly and nods, muttering a quiet, “Sure. Let’s go.” Link doesn’t smile or frown, he keeps his expression neutral as he turns to leave the room. 

Quickly Rhett dresses in appropriate clothing for a public outing, bundles up in his winter coat and boots, then finds Link waiting for him downstairs at the front door. He looks tense even through the thick outer layers he’s wearing; Rhett wishes he could ease that tension, but he can’t. Together they leave the cabin, Link locking the door behind them in silence. 

Link drives them into town, not a word spoken between the two of them. Rhett is anxious, can’t stop fiddling with the mittens covering his hands as Link navigates the car to the town square. This is an entirely new situation. Neither of them have ever, in all their years of coming together, fought so silently. He has never seen Link this uncomfortable and quiet. 

When Link parks, Rhett leaps out of the car and across the parking lot. He comes to a halt in front of a quaint village diner. The windows are frosted and decorated with Christmas designs and a chalkboard menu sits outside the door. Rhett goes inside after Link catches up, flinches when Link fixes him with a cold stare. Someone at the counter greets them warmly, reading out the specials and asking how they can best be served. 

Link orders chicken noodle soup and Rhett orders tomato, to which Link turns his nose up. Rolling his eyes, Rhett finds them a table and seats himself to wait on their order. Link hesitates by the counter then finally joins Rhett at the table, seating himself on the other side. Their wait for soup is filled with nothing but awkward and restrained silence. Rhett plays with his napkin and Link looks around the diner at all the decor left from Christmas. 

After a few minutes, Rhett is ready to claw his way out of his skin. The panic and anxiety have settled into a vibrating hum through his body, and the longer they ignore each other the worse it gets. He’s ready to say something, anything to break this awkwardness, when the waitress brings over their bowls of soup. She sets them down in front of each man, smiles brightly, then leaves after making sure they’re set. 

Link sighs heavily and digs into his chicken noodle. Trying to be subtle, Rhett watches him carefully blow on the top, eyes squinching around the corners when the steam hits his glasses; he takes the frames off and wipes them on his napkin, frowning. It’s so simple, so Link, something Rhett has seen him do a million times. The pang of affection seizes Rhett’s chest so tightly he has to pretend to cough to make it go away. 

Stolen glances interrupt their meal, both looking away at the last second. Link blushes bright red when he’s caught staring and Rhett gets so flustered under Link’s gaze at one point that he drops the spoon in his soup. It’s ridiculous the way they’re acting, but Rhett doesn’t know how to move forward. This is new territory. 

He’s about to say something when an older lady, maybe in her sixties with graying hair and wrinkles, stops at their table, smile lighting up her kind features. She beams at Link and Link stares at her confused for a second, then his face is breaking out into his own smile. He stands abruptly, pulling the older woman into a hug.

“Link Neal, I do declare!” The woman laughs and Link squeezes her. Seeing this woman has softened his features, relaxed the tight lines around his mouth and the worry creasing his forehead. “Look at you, all grown up now.”

Link releases her and looks at her at arm's length. “Mrs. Cooper, it’s so good to see you. How’ve you been?” 

Mrs. Cooper pats his hand on her shoulder, “Still so polite. And so handsome, just like your dad.” Link blushes furiously, ducking his head to hide his embarrassment from her. Rhett can’t help a small smile at the sight. The pair chat for a minute, Link settling into an easy conversation with her. Turns out she’s an old family friend who used to babysit Link during long vacations with his parents, and the older he got, the less he saw of her. She’s sweet and happy, her smile is infectious, and she seems to really love Link.

After a moment Mrs. Cooper side-eyes Rhett, a smirk drawing up her lips. “What?” Link questions, and follows her line of sight. His blush returns in full force. 

“I’m glad you’ve finally found someone to share the cabin with, Link.” She winks as she leans into his space, kissing his cheek quickly. Not so subtly she whispers, “He’s handsome. Keep him around, dear.” When she pulls away Link is flustered, mouth agape. 

Link swivels his head around to look at Rhett. Rhett doesn’t know what to say or do. Does he gently correct her or go along with it, in turn stringing Link along? This has never happened before. They make a habit out of not going to places together unless work requires it, so nobody ever sees them out and about together. They get passing glances from their coworkers, the occasional remark from their individual friends, but never anything too public. 

Rhett stares back at Link, who looks a little hopeful and a lot flustered. Earlier transgressions forgotten for the time being, Rhett considers it. If he corrects her he hurts Link’s feelings, _again_ , and if he goes along with it he gives Link hope that he was right about there being something between them. The hopeful expression on Link’s face makes Rhett’s pulse jump. 

“We’re not, uh, we’re not together,” Rhett stammers and clears his throat, drinks some of his water. “Just, um--”

“Nothing,” Link cuts in, voice shaky. “We’re nothing. Just coworkers and friends.” He shrugs one shoulder and Mrs. Cooper frowns at the pair of them. 

“That’s too bad,” she sighs and pats his shoulder once more. “You make a handsome pair.” At this Rhett is the one blushing and trying to hide his face. He digs into his soup for something to do while she hugs Link and kisses his cheek. “I should be going. Tell your father hello for me.”

Link smiles at her retreating form, waving when she waves first. “Will do, Mrs. Cooper. It was good t’see you.” The bell on the door jingles and she’s gone. Link sits back down with a heavy sigh and picks up his spoon. But he doesn’t eat. Instead he pushes the utensil around the bowl, leaning on one elbow, looking every bit like someone whose feelings have been deeply hurt. 

“Link, I’m sorry, I--”

“Don’t talk to me,” Link snaps. He pushes his bowl back and abruptly stands, yanking out his wallet. “You coulda just--you could’ve--” Link’s face crumples, just for a second, then he’s straightening up to his full height and making his way to the counter. Dumbfounded, Rhett watches him pay for his meal and walk out the door. 

*  
The entire ride home Link fumes. His hands are clenched around the steering wheel in a white knuckled grip, blue eyes burning behind his glasses. Rhett keeps an eye on him the whole time, watching for any changes in his demeanor. He wants to speak, to say something to alleviate this tension creating a bigger rift between them. But what does he say? 

_I built a wall so I wouldn’t get hurt. We’re just rivals, nothing more. This truce has made things fragile and vulnerable, that’s why we’re acting this way_.

_No, no. That’s dumb_.

Rhett internally berates himself as Link winds around curves and over hills. The snow has fallen fresh and blinding white during their outing, leaving a thick coating on the scenery around them. The view is beautiful and overwhelming, and Rhett wishes he could see it on a regular basis. Outside of work, outside of their truce, with each other. The panic worms its way into his fingers, into the soles of his feet, sets them a-tapping in a staccato rhythm on his knees and the floor. 

This week has only shown him how things _could_ be, instead of how things already are. He has been a jittery, tingling mess since they arrived, itching with the need to fight. Only instead of fighting they fell directly into a domestic arrangement of sorts. Rhett is used to the fight, the flight, the fuck, but he’s not used to _this_. 

_But I could be_.

Without thought, Rhett rushes headlong into a confession. He settles his jittery hands and feet and turns to the side to face Link, suddenly aware of what he needs to say. Link glances at him out of his periphery and his hands tighten so hard the leather of the steering wheel creaks. 

“I want to get used to this.” 

Startled, Link jerks and whips his head around to look at Rhett. “What?” He focuses his attention back on the road quickly.

“I want to get used to _this_ , to us. I like the idea of going home with you.” Rhett is fully aware that he probably sounds like an idiot, but he isn’t going to stop. Link’s breathing has picked up slightly and he’s twisting one hand around the steering wheel back and forth. “I like the idea of having a vacation home with you, of coming here for summers and winters and returning to L.A. with you after.” He swallows around the emotion forming in his throat, waiting for Link to say something.

Link’s mouth open and closes like a fish. He’s speechless, for once in his life he’s _speechless_. Rhett wants to laugh, but knows that would make the situation even more uncomfortable. 

“Rhett, don’t--don’t make this worse than it already is,” Link sighs. He makes the final turn onto the cabin’s driveway. 

“I’m _not_ , Link would you just listen--” He huffs as Link parks the car and hurriedly gets out. The snow has begun to fall again, softer this time. Rhett follows him out, has to blink away flakes landing on his lashes as he hurries to keep up with Link. He’s almost to the door, has his hand reaching for the knob, when Rhett grabs him and turns him around. “Listen to me!” He wants to shake the other man, knock some sense into him. For someone that’s usually so far ahead of Rhett, he sure is clueless right now. "You wanted us to talk, so I'm talking!"

“Okay, okay, I’m listening,” Link grumbles.

Rhett squeezes Link’s biceps in what he hopes is a reassuring manner. “Link, I think—“ He swallows for what feels like the thousandth time, damned feelings. “I think you’re right. There...there is something here.” Link’s face goes slack jawed and wide eyed. “But I’ve always been too scared to admit it and you called me out on that.” 

“Rhett—“

“Be quiet, I’m talking and if you interrupt me I might never get it all out.” Link rolls his eyes. Rhett puffs out an exasperated sigh. “Link, _Link_ , I—“ and here it is, this is the moment. Rhett’s chest constricts, his hands tighten too hard around Link’s biceps. He’s suddenly nervous about continuing, but Link rocks forward, catches his elbows in a gentle but firm grip, grounding him. “Link,” he tries again, tongue feeling heavy in his mouth around the weight of his confession. “I _like_ you, I want...I want to _be_ with you.”

Before Rhett can say anymore, Link surges forward, up on his toes, and kisses him fiercely. Fingers trail up from his elbows to his shoulders, dig into the puffy material of his winter coat, and grasp onto the hood. He’s yanked gently, pressed against Link from chests to toes, moaning in unison with Link. Something sweet, something soft starts in every vein and muscle and spreads through him, warming him despite the freezing air and the snow surrounding them. 

Link rears back with a gasp. “About time, ya big jerk,” he breathes, letting go of Rhett’s jacket. Rhett laughs, loud and happy, slips his mittened hands around Link’s cold cheeks, and pulls him into another kiss. 

“I’m sorry it took so long.”

Exhaling softly, Link leans his forehead on Rhett’s chest, and Rhett hugs him close. “Come make it up to me,” he murmurs into the softness of Rhett's coat, then insistent hands are tugging and pulling until they’re both inside. 

Rhett kicks the door closed behind them and grins all the way upstairs. 

*  
The next morning brings a fresh snowfall outside and frost on the windows. Rhett wakes slowly, squinting against the sunlight streaming through the huge windows, and stretches. His bones pop and his muscles protest as he wakes. The blankets are cozy and warm, but the body next to him is warmer when he finishes his stretch and rolls to his side.

Link sleeps soundly on his left side, mouth gaped open and hair a mess, glasses safely tucked away in the nightstand. He’s snoring and Rhett thinks he sees a bit of drool on the pillowcase under his cheek. In sleep Link looks younger than his thirty eight years; his wrinkles are less pronounced, his brow isn’t furrowed in thought, he’s not angry at Rhett for one thing or another. This sight is a far cry from what Rhett is used to. At home he sees Link sneaking away during the night because they made it a habit to try not to sleep over. He sees Link under him and around him and in him, but he never sees Link like this, content and calm. But now he gets to. He gets to have Link like this.

Sighing, Rhett slots himself behind Link’s naked and sleep-warm body. This isn’t the first time he has realized how well they fit together, and this time he doesn’t have to worry about panic coiling in his gut and the urge to flee taking over every thought. He can enjoy the way his own body frames Link’s. He can enjoy the feeling of burying his nose in Link’s hair and the gentle rise and fall of Link’s chest when he spreads his hand over it. 

A few days ago Rhett didn’t think _this_ is where a truce would lead. He thought they would last as long as possible, fight, argue, do what they do best, then go home and pretend everything was as it should be. They did fight, they did argue, but they came together in the end, and for that Rhett is grateful. 

Link shifts and sighs and rubs his face like a cat on his pillow. Rhett props up on his elbow to watch. A wiggly nose, scrunched eyes, hushed snuffling, Link slowly wakes. When he does he blinks rapidly and squints to adjust to the light. He stretches just as Rhett did previously and the movement slides his backside against Rhett’s front, eliciting a quiet groan from Rhett. Link grabs the hand still on his chest and curls back up, scrunching under the blankets and bringing Rhett with him.

“Mornin’,” Link yawns. 

“Mornin’,” Rhett answers, voice gruff and unused in sleep. 

Link shuffles around so he’s facing Rhett, and when they’re nose-to-nose he smiles sleepily. _Fuck_ , he’s cute. So cute that Rhett can’t help placing a kiss on his forehead, then lower on his nose, and lower still on his lips. He’s lightheaded in the best way possible, feels tingly all over, has a brand new type of fire beginning to blaze in his gut. 

“So,” Link murmurs, thumb coming to trace over Rhett’s bottom lip, blue eyes watching the movement closely. His thumb catches and he leans over to kiss Rhett, quick and sweet. 

“So,” Rhett repeats. Link wriggles his way down, further until he’s nearly buried under the mound of blankets. Rhett follows, amused and soft. 

In their cocoon of blankets, with snow falling outside and blanketing the cabin and the forest quiet in the early morning, Link says, “We still have stuff to talk about.” His brows crinkle in thought.

Rhett smooths out the wrinkle between Link’s eyebrows, replies, “We’ll figure it out,” kisses the spot he just smoothed out.

“And there’s still the matter of going home.” Link shuffles till he’s more comfortable, head tucked into Rhett’s neck and arms circling around his back. He tucks a thigh between Rhett’s, rubs it teasingly slow until Rhett is puffing out a quiet moan.

“We’ll figure it out.” Rhett repeats, rolling them so he’s pressing Link into the mattress. He kisses Link’s neck, his throat, licks a hot stripe from clavicle to jugular. The mood shifts lazily, going from hushed and reverent to warm and fuzzy in just a few touches. 

“What about where _we_ end up?” Link digs persistent fingers into Rhett’s sides, his lower back, along his spine; stops touching when he reaches Rhett’s nape and threads his hands through the messy dark blonde strands. The groan Rhett lets out rumbles in his chest and he can’t help the slow roll of his hips against the thigh still tucked between his legs. 

“Link,” Rhett laughs into Link’s neck. “We’ll figure it out. We have plenty of time.” 

Link goes silent and Rhett hovers above him, perched on elbows, staring. Link swallows, the movement catches Rhett’s eye, and he dips down to feel the way his adam’s apple bobs when he does it again. “Say it again,” Link whispers and runs his hands through Rhett’s hair; teases his fingertips down his spine and over his ass and only stops when he reaches Rhett’s waist on the way back up.

Rhett hums, ghosts his lips over Link’s ear. “I _like_ you, I want to _be_ with you, Link.” 

Now Link hums and rolls his hips lazily, grip tightening around Rhett’s waist. “No bullshit?” he asks, head tipping back, giving Rhett more access to his throat and neck. 

“No bullshit,” Rhett confirms. “No running away, no fighting, no stupid rivalry. Just us, figuring it out."

Link grins and Rhett kisses him, feeling the old familiar anxiety finally shift into something sweeter and less afraid. When he pulls away, Link's smile morphs into a teasing smirk.

"Maybe not _no_ fighting," he murmurs. "It is us, after all...and the payoff usually makes it worth it."

Rhett returns the smirk with a mischievous smile of his own. "Fair enough," he acknowledges. "But no running away, then."

"Definitely not," Link agrees, pressing another warm kiss against Rhett's pliant lips. "I'm not letting you go, not after this."

Rhett closes his eyes and finally lets himself feel everything that wells up, warm and soft, deep within his chest. He thinks he can finally find the words to name the emotion that's been lingering beneath his fear all this time, waiting for him to let go.

He think it feels an awful lot like hope.


End file.
